Matilda Hayden grew up with her father in the Elite Upper Class of Boston, and she quite enjoyed her life- thank you very much. She didn't have many complaints. She was going to be attending Yale, her dream school. She had her best friends with her...
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S4.E13
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧
Matty ran one of her perfectly manicured fingers through her hair for a final time, twirling in the mirror in the common room.
She had been working on this lilac, A-line dress for weeks. It was the floral ruffle detailing along the hemline that took her the longest; but it was finally done, and she couldn't be more happy with how it turned out.
"Well?" Matty sighed, turning to face her friends.
"Hot," Briar said.
"I wouldn't kick you out of bed," said Charlotte. "But don't do the mauve lipstick. I'd go lip gloss. It says youthful."
"Thanks!" Matty said, going into her room to add her lipgloss to her clutch.
"Who are you texting?" Charlotte asked Briar, nudging her with her elbow.
"No one," she muttered, snapping her phone shut.
"Are you still texting Jamie?" Matty asked as she slipped on her white heels.
"N-No," Briar chuckled. Charlotte raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay, maybe. I was just making sure he um got home safe."
"It's only two and a half hours away," Matty pointed out. "He left like six hours ago."
"Do you like him?" gasped Charlotte, a glint of excitement in her eyes.
"No! I don't even know him," Briar argued, her face turning pink.
"Sure seemed familiar with one another last night," muttered Matty earning a giggle from Charlotte.
"Don't you have a stupid manuscript dinner to get to?" snapped Briar, poorly tossing a pillow in her direction.
"Alright, alright," she laughed as she dodged the pillow with ease. "I'll see you guys later."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧
The end of February was icy cold in Hartford. Matty was grateful to pass her keys to the valet and enter the foyer of the venue. Large floral arrangements lined the hallway and gaudy chandeliers lined the ceiling as she made her way into the bar area.
Her eyes darted around for any sign of Sherry and her father. It was 5:45 P.M., and Francine hated it when they were late. She hoped he wasn't sitting in his car, refusing to get out until the last second like he normally did when he came to these kind of functions.
